Chorus of Blue

FREEWRITE: An Arrangement

Posted by in Freewrites, Poetry, Poetry, Writing

You ask me to consider an arrangementI have always liked daffodils, after allEven if they no longer smell sweet. So I stare at them, frozen in timeBrightening up the corner of a dark roomIn a dull, familiar way. You ask me to consider this arrangementIn lieu of any other; to settle upon almost lovelyInstead of fresh and new and slated to die You imply the risk, it is not directly statedOr maybe that part is me and my own apprehensionsSo many new arrangements have wilted and died. And you insist…read more

Freewrite: The Mistake of Stillness

Posted by in Poetry, Writing

She found me againThough I’ve hidden with busy handsAnd every moment filled with mustsShe settled in on my heartover coffee and the mistake of stillness I’ve lied. I hide from the writingbecause I know what it brings.And I want to feel like William(Lonely, lonely! And best so!)But my heart longs for moreSadness makes for bitter company. So I will work with the fervency of the manicMy mind frantic with lists and absolutesI will work til someone drags me like a drunkardto a filthy unkempt bedI will work up to the edge of…read more

Poetry Project: National Geographic Photo of the Day Writing Prompts

Posted by in Poetry, Poetry, Prose, Ten Minutes, Writing

Ever since I was a young girl, I have been deeply fascinated by National Geographic magazine. The wonders of natural phenomena, distant cultures, space and the cosmos… it has all enthralled me for as long as I can recall. Early in life, I insisted my dream career was to be a NGeo photographer and travel the world capturing the unique beauty and wonder of this planet. As most childhood dreams fade, those did as well. But the fascination always remained. 

Now, I’d like to take an opportunity to revisit that fascination directly, but to do so from where I stand now, as a writer.

POEM: Istikhaara

Posted by in Poetry, Poetry, Poetry, Writing

I made a prayer for guidance
And signs like meteors
came barreling forth

We sat on the lawn and watched them
light fire to everything
Each hope and near certainty
set ablaze

I saw the ash rise up in the air
like a warning
choked on it
coughed       wept

Then we held hands and laughed

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POEM: And I Regard My Own

Posted by in Poetry, Poetry, Writing

He said,
I just wish I could touch someone’s hand
like I used to.

And I regard my own
with broken electric conduits shrinking and
my heart sending pulses eeking through

I try to open the jar and there’s so much protest
How weak and trembling like children
they retreat.

I just wish I could touch someone’s hand
like I used to.

And I remember when the pencils first began to slip

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